


32 Dates

by lightblue_Nymphadora



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightblue_Nymphadora/pseuds/lightblue_Nymphadora
Summary: Despite great lives and amazing opportunities, Santana and Quinn feel as though they're growing apart. Santana hatches a plan.





	1. Stargazing

Santana tapped her pen on the desk, staring blankly down at her phone. She’d been debating calling Quinn, but now her thoughts had run away with her. It had been another morning of barely speaking, obligatory kisses goodbye, and just general radio silence. It wasn’t that they were fighting...but Santana wasn’t comfortable with just how...mundane things had become. She would’ve thought things would be great. They were doing well for themselves these days. Quinn was working as a technical writer for one of Denver’s big technology companies, and Santana had her dream job as one of the creative team for an indie game company. Things were good, but their relationship had...dulled. 

“Santana?”

“Hey Mikey,” she said, shaken from her thoughts. 

Mikey the Intern strolled in and dropped a few sheets of paper on her desk. He was only sixteen, but had been working with them on the marketing images for their newest game. “You okay, boss? You looked a bit out of it just now.”

“I’m cool, Mikey, thanks. Just thinking about what the hell I’m going to make for dinner,” she lied, smiling. “Have a seat - let’s talk about your designs.”

He sat across from her, and tapped the top poster. “I like this one the best, but Jacoby and Rae like the blue. No one liked the ship idea.”

Santana looked through the pictures. The new game was, tentatively, titled Captain Peabody and the Western Shores, and it would be first in The Farthest Night Chronicles game trilogy. It was all about Steampunk Airship captains and their adventures. She could see, looking at all three designs, why Mikey liked his favorite. It was gorgeous, with a detailed Airship run aground against white sand and shimmering blue rocks. “I like it too, but,” she added, and grinned when he pouted, “It gives away a pretty key plot point. The blue is nice too. Let’s go with that one for the first promo.”

“Right, boss,” he said, managing to not sound too disappointed. 

“What’s that you’re wearing?” she asked, pointing to his wrist when he picked up the designs. 

“Oh,” he said, blushing. “It’s a 32 Kisses bracelet. I guess I’ve been slacking in the romance department, because my girlfriend made us sign up. You take this online pledge to kiss your boy or lady each day for 32 days. It’s supposed to make you reflect on your life as a couple, or something. They send you these bracelets once you sign up online, and you just have to take a picture at the end of it and write a few reflections for them. It’s like, a marriage counselor and his psychologist wife doing research.”

Santana grinned at him. Half because he was clearly embarrassed at the whole prospect, but half because he had given her a great idea. “From a girl’s perspective, Mikey? You going along with this is great. You put effort into making her feel like a queen - trust me, she’ll dig it. Good on you.”

He blushed. “Yeah, yeah… you need anything before I go home, boss?”

Santana shook her head. “Be free. Good luck on your chemistry final tomorrow.”

Mikey groaned as he left her office. 

Feeling quite chipper now, Santana opened a Word document on her computer, and started to put her plan together. She reached over to her phone and, instead of calling Quinn, dialed Kurt. 

“Hummel’s house of barbecue and taxidermy, how may I direct your call.”

“Always full of jokes,” Santana said, laughing. “Look, Porcelain, I’ve got something up my sleeve, and I might need your help.”

“Oooh, do we get to scheme together again? Do tell….”

“I want to do something special for Quinn.”

*

Quinn kicked off her shoes as soon as she was through the door. All in all, it hadn’t been that hard of a day, but she was glad to be home. She’d been missing Santana lately, and was looking forward to at least having dinner with her. Something had been off with them lately, and she really just wanted things back to the way they were. Meals together, talking about each other’s days, planning their family…. 

The lights in the house were off, but she thought she could see lights in the backyard. The days were getting darker, faster, and they had installed fairy lights out on the patio just last week. When she turned on the kitchen lights, she spotted a purple envelope with her name on it, propped up against her favorite LaCroix sparkling water. 

_Quinn,_  
I miss you. Things have been hectic and weird lately, and I don’t want it to get in between us as a couple. So I have an idea. I’m taking you on 32 dates. The plan is simple: one date per day. Exceptions: your monthly executive meeting, my demo date, and if one of us is sick. And even on that last one, we could probably make it work. On our dates, no talking about work, or anything that’s been bothering us. We just enjoy each other’s company. At the end of the 32 days, if we still have feelings, we can talk about everything.   
When you’re ready, I’d like to take you on your first date. Change into something comfy and warm. I’m in the backyard. 

Quinn stood staring at the letter for a long moment, and then dashed for their bedroom. As she was the perpetually cold one of the two of them, it didn’t take her long to find some warm clothes for the evening. She changed quickly, and headed out to the backyard to see what Santana had in store for them. 

“Baby?”

“Hey Q,” Santana said, waving from the hammock. “Glad you got home in time.”

“In time for what?” Quinn asked as she climbed into the hammock. 

Santana wrapped a thick blanket around them and gave her a kiss. “Meteor shower starts in about thirty minutes. I brought dinner!”

Quinn laughed as her wife held up two large thermoses. “Please tell me you went straight back to fifth grade and got Campbell’s chicken noodle.”

“Chicken and stars, actually,” Santana said, passing her a thermos and placing the basket of breadsticks between them. “Have to stick to the theme.”

They sat in the hammock, swinging gently and joking about other kids’ foods that they wanted adult versions of. When the meteor shower started, they settled down into the hammock to watch. Quinn leaned over and kissed Santana gently. 

“S?”

“Yeah Q?”

“This is beautiful. Thank you.”

Santana smiled and pulled her closer. “You’re welcome, Quinn.” As her wife snuggled closer to her under the blanket, Santana hoped that this would be the beginning of great things for them.


	2. Christmas Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Santana cooks up a sweet idea for Date #2.

Quinn highlighted a few sentences that were questionable, and tossed her pen back into the cup. She’d been revising the startup manual for a new app for the whole day. She wasn’t sure what had been going on that day it had been written, but it was riddled with confusing writing and grammatical errors. She jumped when her phone buzzed. “Hey Santana!”

“Hey Q. Are you going to be home by six?”

“Looks like it. Should I bring anything for dinner?”

“Frankie’s Pub for sandwiches?” Santana suggested. 

“You addict,” Quinn laughed. “I don’t know what’s worse - your need for breadsticks or your craving for number four, hold the mayo.” 

“I simply have a deep appreciation for food,” Santana said. “See you in a few hours.”

“What’s your magical plan for our date tonight?” Quinn asked, unable to keep a touch of excitement out of her voice. 

“Magical things that are magical,” Santana whispered, adding a maniacal chuckle for effect. “Just get home soon, babe.”

“As soon as I can. Bye, gorgeous!”

*

Quinn made it home by five flat, after haggling with her boss to come in early the next day. “Santana?” 

“Kitchen, baby!”

Quinn turned the corner and stopped short. They generally divided duties in the kitchen - Quinn was in charge of meal prep for the week on Sunday. Santana was in charge of “on the spot” meals - if they had a day where the prepped food ran out, or they just wanted something different. Santana was also in charge of…

“Baking night!” Santana said, smiling. 

“Sant-” Quinn couldn’t even get her wife’s name out before she started laughing. In her defense, Santana was quite a sight in her bright yellow, “Caution - Hot Stuff Coming Through” apron, her bear claw oven mitts, and a bright rainbow bandana holding her hair back. And the kitchen was just as all over the place. Flour, sugar, every single sprinkle on earth, and various other baking ingredients were scattered over every counter. 

She shuffled over to Quinn and kissed her. “Go get out of your work clothes. We’re doing Christmas cookies tonight.”

“Santana, it’s only the second of December,” Quinn said, still laughing. 

“I know - we need to get into the spirit.”

“Right,” Quinn said, looking around at the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

Ten minutes later, there was Christmas music blasting, the KitchenAid was whirring, and they were halfway through the bottle of wine Quinn had bought the day before. 

“And baby if I could have just one wish come true,” Santana sang. 

“I don’t wanna spend one more Christmas without you,” Quinn finished. “Wait, how many batches of chocolate chip are we making?” as NSYNC turned to 98 Degrees on the playlist. 

“I think we’ve got enough for three?” Santana said. 

“I’ve got the snickerdoodle mix over here, and...what’s in the KitchenAid? Peanut butter?”

“No, I’m doing peanut butter last so there’s no cross contamination.”

“So I’m guessing we’re not going to be eating all of these ourselves?” Quinn joked, adding sprinkles to the sugar cookie batter. 

“I mean...we could…”

“Don’t even think about it. We’ve got enough to deliver to the neighbors -”

“Only the ones we like. Not the Clarences after their demon spawn vandalized our shit. And not the Coopers. The husband stares at us when we’re gardening.”

“Sweetie, all of the men in the neighborhood got together in the Coopers’ front window to watch you mow the grass when we first moved in. If creeping disqualified cookie recipient candidates, we wouldn’t be able to deliver anywhere.”

“Point taken.”  
*

By the time all of the peanut butter, chocolate chip, sugar, and chocolate mint had been baked and wrapped for delivery, Santana and Quinn were exhausted. They took a plate of the extras into the living room, and flopped down on the couch to watch TV.

“Want to watch Hallmark Christmas movies and try to guess the ending?” Santana asked. 

“Absolutely. Oh, and I have an idea for what we can do with those last two baskets of cookies.”

“I sure hope so. That’s over fifty cookies, not counting the ones we’re giving to the neighbors.”

“We’ll take them to the Ronald McDonald House,” Quinn explained. “The employees can have one basket, and they can put the other one in the common room for the families to share.”

“That’s brilliant, Q,” Santana agreed, kissing her on the cheek. “That’s a lot of families, though. We should do another delivery next week.”

“I’m up for it. Oooh, here’s a movie called A Christmas Reunion. What do you think?”

“Some female corporate exec is a total Grinch, and has to go home for Christmas for the first time in years because someone in her family is sick or something. And then some down-home mechanic/bookstore owner/handyman comes into her life and she falls in love with him, and possibly learns to love his kids if he has them. I get bonus points if he’s her high school sweetheart, or the ‘one she let get away’. She finds her Christmas spirit and leaves her big city life because home and his dick are all she needs.” She grinned when Quinn stared at her. “I may watch these on Saturday mornings while I’m folding laundry.”

“Let’s see how close you are,” Quinn said, hitting the info button on the remote. She read from the screen, “April, a busy marketing director, returns to her small town home after years away to see her ailing grandmother over Christmas. While reconnecting with her family, she meets single father Adam, and his daughter Cadence. April may just find her Christmas spirit while staying at their bed and breakfast.” Quinn clicked the TV off. 

“Hey! I thought we were going to watch!” Santana protested. 

“No. We’re going to start delivering cookies. You’ve officially watched too many of these movies.”

“No way! I want to watch it!” Santana said, pulling Quinn closer and turning the TV back on. She kissed Quinn’s forehead and said, “Don’t worry. Just this one. And maybe the next one - A Family for Christmas? Gotta be a tearjerker.”

“...just you wait until Valentine’s Day… we’re watching nothing but Lifetime,” Quinn said, but snuggled closer to Santana and grabbed a cookie. “What’s tomorrow’s date?” 

“It’s a surprise. But I can assure you, it’s magnificent,” Santana said. “I’m going to have you seeing stars.”

“Sex doesn’t count.”

Santana laughed. “Not what I meant, babe.”


	3. Planetarium

The one drawback to working in the video game industry was the fact that you worked with video game enthusiasts. Normally, this wasn’t an issue. They’d put up, “No Mass Effect debates” signs in the break room. There was a strict “Spoilers are for Serial Killers” rule. And normally they didn’t play games together. Normally. 

“Die! If you you don’t just die!” Carman grunted under her breath. 

Mikey the Intern laughed maniacally as he shot more slime from his tailpipe, dodging the apples that Carman had just shot his way. 

Santana sat back, ready to referee in case Produce Racer III turned into a bloodsport. It was one of their most popular games, and there had been some words exchanged on social media that morning. Thus, Santana and Grant had declared the final hour of the work day as time to settle the score. 

“Watch out - she’s got a net,” Santana started. “Ooooh! That hurts!” Her phone buzzed, and she realized they’d actually been playing for an hour and fifteen minutes. 

“Time’s up, friends! And Mikey’s taken the day.”

“Sorry boss,” he told Carman, not looking sorry in the slightest. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, flipping her hair out of her eyes. “I’ll get you next time.”

Santana laughed and went about the daily “shutdown” procedures. She turned off all of the lights, TVs, and consoles - leaving only the two development computers on. As she locked up, she dialed Quinn. 

“Fabray’s House of Pancakes and Bondage - you flip them, and so do we!” Quinn answered brightly. 

Santana had to lean over the steering wheel from laughing. “Wait! No….” 

Quinn laughed, clearly enjoying having thrown Santana off. “I think that’s a point for me.”

“Yeah - you got me with that one,” Santana said, still chuckling. 

Quinn was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think we’ve joked like this in months,” she said softly. 

As she pulled out of her parking spot, Santana smiled. “No, we haven’t. But remember our rules - no deep talks quite yet.”

“I remember. So...what should I wear tonight?”

“What you’ve got on now. I’m coming to pick you up.”

“I’m ready when you get here!”  
*

“How was your day?” Quinn asked, kissing Santana on the cheek. 

“Eventful. Thought we were going to have a rumble over Produce Racer,” Santana said. 

“Not again - did the interns blockade the snack office again?”

“We avoided it this time, but it was a close call,” Santana laughed. “Ready for date number three?”

“I’ve been ready all day. I had to edit our director’s speech, and I gave myself breaks by trying to guess where we were going.”

“Did you get the speech done?”

“I did,” Quinn said, smugly. “So...do I get a clue?”

“I guess. I’ve cheated a little, because we’ve sort of done this already.” 

Quinn’s brow furrowed as she thought about it. “Well, if it’s cookies, I have to respectfully decline. My teeth and stomach hurt just thinking about sugar.”

“Don’t worry - it’s not cookies.” Santana pointed out the window, smiling when Quinn laughed. 

They pulled into the Science Museum’s parking lot and found a space right up close. Santana took Quinn’s hand as they walked up to the museum entrance. “There’s the black holes show at the planetarium, and the Vikings show at the Imax. And then there’s...something else afterward.” 

“Oooh, mysterious,” Quinn said. “Let’s go with black holes.” She pulled Santana toward the theater, and they snuggled down in the wide, reclined seats.

Thirty minutes later, they exited the theater into the Hall of Planets, making quiet dirty jokes about black holes and things getting “lost in the depths of space.” They held hands, wandering through the planetarium until they came to a large, dark room. 

“What’s in here?” Santana asked, looking at the map. “Stargazer room.”

“Let’s go in, and then I want to get out of here,” Quinn said with a pointed look. 

“Aye, aye, captain.” 

They were the only two in the room, and their footsteps echoed in the cavernous darkness. The light they could make out was above them, and yet also all around them. Santana heard Quinn release a deep breath. The hall was full of mirrors, reflecting the tiny pinpricks of light that came from the ceiling - it gave them the feeling that they were standing in the middle of a thousand stars. 

“Okay...I get it,” Quinn said. 

“Get what, baby?”

“Why you said you’d have me seeing stars.”

“Well, I keep my promises. I mean… I try to at least,” Santana added. 

Quinn pulled her closer and kissed her cheek. “Hey - none of that. Your rules, remember? No heavy stuff, just us together. Now… this is gorgeous, but I want ice cream and sex. Like now.”

Santana laughed and hugged her. “Does it have to be in that order?”

“No, but for it not to be, we’d have to park somewhere. I don’t feel like getting picked up by the police, and I want a cherry cobbler blizzard from the Dairy Queen knock-off by our house.”

“Right - but it’s gotta be a mini, because we’re getting straight to business when we get home.”  
*

The plan for ice cream only lasted two minutes into the car ride. Quinn had pulled Santana into a kiss at a stoplight, and that had been the end of that. Santana made the twenty-five minute drive in fifteen, somehow managing not to get pulled over, and the two stumbled into the house, pausing only to lock the door. Quinn pulled Santana into their bedroom, and the two tumbled into bed. 

“Good third date?” Santana gasped as Quinn pulled her clothes off. 

“Good third date.”


	4. Aquarium

Quinn loved Fridays - for the obvious reason, but also because their team meetings were Friday mornings. Now, contrary to popular belief, the technical writing team was not full of stuffy, stone-faced old dudes who self-identified as grammar police. Not so. 

Quinn laughed as Adam and Remy tried to quick edit the giant poster in front of them. The team’s printing allowance was unlimited, so they regularly printed poster-sized emails from the shittier customers, and had tag team races to edit them. 

“And, that’s time!” their boss, Monica, called. “Who’s got more edits?” 

“Remy!” Quinn and her half of the team yelled. 

He triumphantly capped his pen as the team congregated around the table. Monica added a point to their team’s score, and listed the items of the day. 

“We have our individual projects, but the company is partnering with a new video game company to produce some K-12 literacy games. Everyone will be taking on a documentation project for that, but the good news is that we’re getting first dibs at the games. It’s looking like a February start date. Let’s hear about updates from everyone. Sami?”

Before Sami could start on her update, however, there was a knock at the door. Evelyn, their elderly, MMA fighting receptionist, peeked in and smiled. 

“Sorry to disturb you, but this just arrived for Quinn. I thought you would all want it in here.” With that, she entered fully with a large black box with hot pink writing. O-Face Donuts was one of Denver’s up and coming bakeries. They specialized in custom order donuts, but their claim to fame were the naughty donut names. 

“Aww, Quinnzies! You got us breakfast?” Adam said. 

“I didn’t,” Quinn said, “But I think I know who did.” Sure enough, when she scanned over the card, it was a message from Santana. “Dear Q, here’s clue number one. See you tonight.”

“Uh oh,” Sami and Remy catcalled, making kissing noises. 

“Even Santana’s not that obvious.” Quinn rolled her eyes and opened the box. All of the donuts were shaped like fish. She and her coworkers dug in, pushing confusion aside to get down to business.   
*

It was the weirdest, but probably the most fun, Friday Quinn had ever had. Clue number two came around eleven, when a delivery of flowers came with fish swimming around in the vase. By the time clue number three rolled around (a cookie bouquet sporting mermaid, fish, octopus, and shark shaped cookies), the flower fish were the office mascots. They’d also gained three names each: Herbert, Ja’Quavian, and Atticus for the male, and Gertrude, LaToya, and Finley for the female. 

Quinn, snacking on one of the octopus cookies, finished writing the grant proposal she was working on, and picked up her phone. 

“Lopez Taxidermy and Barbecue! You kill ‘em, we grill ‘em!”

Quinn cackled. “I got my three clues. You said I could guess.”

“I sure di - MICKEY! STOP SHOOTING CARMEN WITH THE MEGA BLASTER! Sorry,” Santana said, returning to her regular voice. “Go ahead. What’s your guess?”

“Are we going to the aquarium?” Quinn asked, excitedly. 

“Ding ding ding!” Santana said. “We are. Pack up your stuff - I’m waiting outside.” 

Quinn threw all of her stuff into her Vera Bradley tote, called out her normal weekend greeting to her coworkers (“Be good! Don’t burn anything down this weekend!”), and raced down the steps to Santana’s car. “Hi wife!”

“Hey wife-the-second,” Santana said, leaning over to kiss her. “Hopefully there won’t be too many crazy kids there.”

“Are we going to eat first?” Quinn asked. “I’m starving.”

“We’re having dinner there. I got us reservations and everything.”

“Oooh, fancy. You know, you’re going to spoil me with all of this. I’m going to be incorrigible.” 

“Trust me, I know. Any cool nerdy wordy stuff happen today?”

“I’m cheating on you with another video game company,” Quinn said, grinning at her. 

“Damn! I knew it!” Santana said, laughing. “All those nights you said you were too tired to play Mega Mountaineer with me! You’ve been creeping with skanky Underground Tales, haven’t you?” she accused dramatically. She took advantage of the stoplight to give Quinn a playful stink-eye. It wasn’t too effective - she was laughing almost as hard as Quinn was. 

“It’s a new educational software company,” Quinn choked, as her laughter subsided. “My gamer heart belongs to you.”

They were at the aquarium in another twenty minutes, and walked in hand in hand. They spotted the maps, but their attention was distracted by the brightly colored children’s maps next to them. The maps for kids had a couple of mermaids and mermen at the top, inviting the children to find the mermaids around the aquarium. 

“You up for a scavenger hunt?” Santana asked. 

“You kidding? I wanted to be a mermaid when I was seven. I thought my parents had adopted me from a mermaid family.”

“Oh really? Well, then dinner’s going to be interesting. Grab two maps - we’re eating first and then we’ll search for your aquatic cousins.”

They entered the dining room, and were shown to a table closest to an enormous aquarium. The waiter took their drink orders and Quinn reached across the table to take Santana’s hand. She smiled and gave it a little squeeze.

“What?” Santana asked, smiling back.

“I love you,” Quinn said. “And I love these dates. But I’m totally cool with low-key dates too. You don’t have to go over the top to impress me.”

Santana gave her a sheepish smile. “Busted. But I want to spoil you!”

“I know you do, you sap.”

“Hey now - keep it down!” Santana said. “I have a rep to maintain.” 

Over a dinner of surf and turf - which Santana took demonic glee in eating as the fish swam by - the two of them talked about random nothingness. Books, music, the random new lawn ornaments Mrs. Petersen down the street had just put out…. Quinn was about to inquire as to where one even gets drag queen lawn gnomes, when the lights suddenly dimmed. Harp music began to play, and Quinn gasped as two mermaids entered the tank. They swam about, dancing together and waving at the crowd. 

Santana, for her part, was loving her wife’s reaction. She’d known about Quinn’s mermaid obsession, but hadn’t known that it ran quite this deep. She was also deeply entertained by the Girl Scout troop next to them. The three little black girls were getting their lives because,

“Oh my gosh, she looks like us!”

The black mermaid (who was rocking a glorious purple and blue afro) made sure to swim by and wave. Santana and Quinn smiled brightly and gave her a thumbs up as she swam past. 

“Well, I prepaid,” Santana said. “If you’re finished, we should check out the exhibits.”  
*

“I can’t believe I never told you about my mermaid obsession,” Quinn said as they walked through the gift shop. “I guess I had grown out of it by the time we met in seventh grade, but thought it had come up once or twice.”

“Well given that you just found out about my seahorse obsession -”

“The noise you made when you saw them was precious.”

“I’d say we’re even.”

“Seriously, you squealed,” Quinn said, laughing. “Speaking of… I think we need souvenirs.” She picked up one of the blue, iridescent seahorse necklaces and held it up to Santana. “This one’s perfect for you.”

Santana turned the little stand of jewelry, and let out a triumphant, “Aha!” when she found what she was looking for. She held up one of the mermaid necklaces. 

“She’s even blonde, just like you. Let’s pay for these and head home.”

“Good idea - I have an irresistible urge to watch The Little Mermaid now….”


	5. Museum Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn and Santana visit the local museum, but not for a normal night of art education.

Santana did, of course, want to heed Quinn’s wishes for a chill night. The issue was that she was planning about three nights in advance, so there was nothing that could be done about tonight. On the bright side, she knew Quinn was going to love this, and the next few dates were going to be low-key. 

But she had another issue to deal with now. 

“KURT MALEFICENT HUMMEL!”

Kurt cackled through the phone at her. “You said you wanted my help!”

“I’m not doing this to get into her pants, so the colorful supply of lingerie and sex toys you sent -”

“That’s so sweet, Santana,” Kurt said, and Santana could hear both his expression and stance. “But physical closeness is just as important as the emotional closeness you’re experiencing. And all the stuff is free. One of the many perks of being a subscription box reviewer is that I get free subscription boxes to try. And clearly I’m not using any of that stuff.”

“Well, I mean, a few of the things you could -”

“No! Have a nice date, and pass on my love to Quinn.”

“Will do.” She hung up the phone, chuckling to herself. Then she stuffed the two puffy manilla folders into her backpack and called for Mikey.

“Boss lady?” he asked, peeking around the doorframe. 

“I’m headed out early, but make sure you email me your agenda for the intern meeting next week.”

“Got it. Have fun on your mystery date,” he said, grinning. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving him out the door. It had been his and Ava the Intern’s idea for a team-building outing, and since the team wouldn’t be going for another month, Santana had co-opted the idea for a date night. She shot a text to Quinn as she hollered goodbye to her coworkers and headed to her car.   
*

Quinn stared at the text, trying to understand what it meant. Sure, what her wife wanted was easy enough. But the reason why was incomprehensible. Apparently she needed to be dressed by the time Santana got there, and practice an English accent? She sighed, and checked the bag that Santana had left. The clothes weren’t her style at all. But, being a good sport, she put on what she would call “librarian chic” and began practicing her accent. By the time Santana arrived to pick her up, she’d managed to move from “Pretentious American Trying to Pass as British,” to “Ungodly Mixture of Irish, Cockney, and Welsh” which she took as a victory.

“Cheerio!” she quipped, sliding into the car. 

“Sweet Jesus,” Santana said. 

“Nice biker lady costume,” Quinn sniggered, breaking character. “Are we going to a costume party?”

“Kinda, my foxy librarian lady. Here you go,” she said, passing Quinn a thick manilla envelope. “We’re going to a freeform party, love!”

“Um….I have no idea what that is?”

“Think of a murder mystery dinner, but with no clues and no script. That’s your character bible - all of your characteristics and items. The theme is Heist at the Museum!”

Quinn looked through her character bible, laughing as she read about her character’s quirks and goals for the evening. 

They pulled up to the museum and gathered with the other players in the foyer. 

“Welcome to the Museum’s fifth annual freeform party! Before I get into character, here are the rules. No touching unless it is within the scope of the game. Get into the game - it’s no fun if there’s someone with a funky attitude who’s not playing their role. Remember that you each have five goals, and one quirk. Play to that quirk, and fulfill all of your goals. Any questions?”

Santana smiled as Quinn grinned and bounced excitedly. 

“Right, now onto the game!” The curator donned a top hat and spun around with flourish. “Welcome! Welcome to the Museum’s charity auction. We’ll be auctioning three….” He pulled away the curtain with a gasp. There was nothing under the sheet. “Someone has stolen the items! No one leaves the museum until they are found!”  
*

Santana had three of her goals taken care of, but she couldn’t get the fourth one until Madame LeFaunteroy showed back up from her rendezvous with Lord Tavington. She spotted Quinn across the gallery, and decided to go rogue for a few minutes - just to see if she could throw her wife off. 

“Ayo Detective,” she said, sliding over to Quinn and the “investigator”. “Why you sweatin’ this girl? You know she ain’t take your shit.”

“Why don’t you go look at the pretty pictures of bikes,” the detective snapped at her. 

“Yo honey, you wanna jam with me?” Santana asked, winking at Quinn. 

“Of course. Are we done here, Detective?” Quinn asked. Her accent was only marginally better - she sounded like she’d tried out for the Harry Potter movies and failed. 

“Sure,” he huffed. 

“Five minutes,” came over the loudspeakers. 

People began rushing around, desperately trying to fulfill their last goals in the short time left. Santana and Quinn watched, amused, from the balcony. When the one minute mark was called, Santana turned to Quinn and smiled. 

“How’s about a kiss for rescuing you from that guy, eh?”

Quinn rolled her eyes, but pulled Santana closer by the lapels of her leather jacket. “We could make that work. What did you say your name was again?”

“Desiree Hawkins, at yo’ service.”

“Pleasure to meet you. Now...a kiss from the hot blonde librarian wouldn’t be the last thing on your list, would it?”

“No - in fact I’m missing two. But a kiss would help soothe me in my loss.”

“Okay then,” Quinn said, leaning in to kiss Santana just as the buzzer rang. “Glad it wasn’t your last goal,” she said when they pulled apart. “And thanks for helping me get mine.”

“Wait...what?” Santana asked. 

“If everyone could gather round the podium!” the curator called. “Come on in, get close, I know there’s a lot of you. Now since this is a larger game, we’re only going to call up winners, and major players. So, first, if you met all of your goals, come on up.”

“Toodles, love,” Quinn quipped. 

Santana watched, genuinely curious as to what her wife had to do. 

“And Detective Ransom, please come up, along with all of the thieves.” The curator went down the line, asking for goals, quirks, and how they won. Finally, he got to Quinn. 

“Well, my character was Amanda Hodgkins, librarian for the British Museum,” she explained. “My quirk was that I had to randomly speak another language whenever someone said the word ‘museum’ - shout-out to my high school French teacher Miss Collier. And I was one of the thieves.”

The audience ooohed, and Santana had a feeling which goal she helped with. 

“So I only had two goals - to swap baseball cards with the dealer, hey Franchesca! And to make sure I didn’t get arrested for stealing the limited edition signed Mark Twain collection.” She held up the card to show them as the detective yelled and the audience clapped. 

It was over in another few minutes after the prizes were handed out. Santana gave Quinn a playful stink eye when she met up with her by the exit. 

“I feel so used,” she said. 

“Awwww, sorry babe,” Quinn told her, kissing her cheek. “How about Desiree takes Amanda home and Amanda shows her her wild side?”

Santana grinned, remembering the box Kurt sent earlier. She switched back to her cool biker chick voice, “Well, let’s go, honey.”


	6. Photoshoot

One of the things Quinn had negotiated when she got her job was weekends. They got the traditional two days off, but Santana had had her schedule first. And the game company worked Saturdays, and took Sundays and Mondays off. So Quinn had negotiated for the same. This weekend would be interrupted due to a Serious Business Meeting, but that wasn’t until tomorrow. Besides, Sundays were their favorite days together - slow, relaxed…. She woke up that Sunday to the smell of pancakes. 

Santana came in with a breakfast tray. “Morning, Q!” she said. 

“Someone’s chipper this morning,” Quinn said, kissing Santana as she settled the tray on the bed. 

“I’ve had the requisite amount of caffeine, and I managed to pull off an entire batch of pancakes without burning them.”

“And perfectly poached eggs,” Quinn said. “You spoil me. Is this our date for today?”

“Part of it,” Santana said, sliding back under the covers. She speared a pancake for herself and continued to explain. “We’ll be going out in a while, but we can take our time. No reservations or anything - I took you ‘low key’ suggestion for this one.”

“Do I get a hint?”

Santana thought for a moment. “Giants and shit.”

“Excuse me?”  
*

Garden of the Gods had enough snow on the ground to make boots necessary, but it wasn’t terribly cold. Besides, Quinn and Santana were wrapped in thick, fancy sweaters. A combination of Sunday time frame and winter meant that it wasn’t packed with tourists at the moment, so they were mostly undisturbed. 

“Right,” Santana said. “Part two of our date. We’re taking pictures for our Christmas cards.”

Quinn actually squealed. “Excellent! Let’s do one over there!”

For the next two hours, Quinn and Santana dragged each other around the open areas of the park, taking selfies in some places, and asking kind park goers to take their pictures in others. 

“Santana!” Quinn called, sitting down on a bench. She patted the space next to her. “Come on - this spot will be perfect for our Christmas pictures.” 

Santana strolled over and, without warning, busted a snowball over Quinn’s head. She ran before Quinn could retaliate. However, when she didn’t hear any pursuit, she turned...and got smacked in the face with a snowball. She briefly remembered Quinn’s junior high softball career, and felt that she should’ve seen it coming. She walked back over, dusting snow off of her boobs. 

“Fair enough, truce?” she asked.

“Of course,” Quinn said sweetly. “Now get over here, I want another picture.”

“Mountains in the background?”

“Yep! Smile big, Tana!” 

Santana did so happily, and smiled even bigger on the second picture when Quinn kissed her cheek. 

When they were finally exhausted, they headed back to the car. Interestingly, Santana didn’t head back toward 25 and Denver. Instead, she drove them to a suburban cottage in the Cherry Creek area outside of Colorado Springs. 

“Don’t worry - it’s not extravagant,” she promised. “It’s an AirBnB. Your meeting is down here tomorrow, right?”

“That’s right,” Quinn said. “But I didn’t pack a bag.”

“I did - your best power suit is ready to go. We have everything for a mini vacation night away. Now...the owners of this place said something about a hot chocolate bar. I really want to check it out.”

The cottage style house had a beautiful stone fireplace in the living room, and they hadn’t been lying about the hot chocolate bar. It was a cute wooden setup - built into the kitchen wall. Mugs were stacked neatly nearby, and there were two electric kettles - one for water, and one for milk. And after they got settled, the grabbed a couple of mugs and indulged. Santana went with vanilla chocolate, and Quinn opted for mint. Mugs in hand, and pizza delivery on the way, they curled up on the couch together to watch Netflix. They laughed along to LA To Vegas for a few episodes before switching to Cutthroat Kitchen.

“San?” Quinn asked quietly. 

“Yeah babe.”

Quinn set her hot chocolate down and turned so that she was straddling Santana. “I know the rules are that we are supposed to wait to talk until after the 32 dates...but something’s on my mind. I want to talk about it now.”

Santana leaned forward to kiss her shoulder, and then looked up at her. “Okay - go for it. I’m listening.”

Quinn smiled and looped her arms around Santana’s shoulders. “Today was amazing,” she began, kissing her. “Amazing. I’ve missed spending time with you like this. And… I want you to know that I meant what I said about low key dates. I love you, and I know you - and I know that sometimes you go extravagant when you feel big things. You don’t have to. I love hot chocolate dates and ice skating. Don’t go big out of guilt - this isn’t something you should feel guilty about. We’ve both been distant. And we’re going to get over it.”  
Santana pulled her closer into a hug. “I love you,” she whispered. 

“I love you too, you goober.”

“Let’s get you to bed - wouldn’t want you to be late to your fancy meeting tomorrow.”

“Babe, it’s like eight o’clock!” Quinn protested.

Santana gave her what she probably thought was a saucy grin. “I know that. But I plan on keeping you busy for a few hours...don’t want to keep you up too late.” She laughed when Quinn jumped up and pulled her toward the bedroom.


End file.
